


Remember That You Will Die

by sladeninstitute



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, M/M, Mirror Universe, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 15:46:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sladeninstitute/pseuds/sladeninstitute
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Leonard McCoy is jealous, possessive, and slightly psychotic. Anyone with a lick of common sense would know not to cross him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember That You Will Die

**Author's Note:**

> Based loosely off this [Tumblr post](http://toosmallortootall.tumblr.com/post/63222945314/mirror-mckirk-au-mccoy-and-kirk-have-been).
> 
> I've never written Mirrorverse. Hell, I never gave thought to Mirrorverse before last night. As such, this is probably about the furthest thing from passable.
> 
> Also, I'll never expand upon this universe, so you can go ahead and assume that Earth is destroyed by the Mirror!Romulans and that the bulk of _Star Trek 2009_ 's plot never happens, et cetera et cetera.

Bones would never forget the day that he met Jim Kirk. It was five years ago, at a small backwoods hospital in the middle of Georgia. He was a brilliant young doctor, revered by all for his skills. Some of his colleagues had taken to calling him “Doctor Death,” a name that he hated but wasn't all that far from the truth. He'd let his patients deteriorate until they were on the very edge of death, swooping in to save them at the very last second. Not every patient made it out alive, and that only served to make Bones giddy. It all came down to survival of the fittest, and if a patient came in with potentially fatal wounds, they weren't fit to live.

Jim Kirk was one of those patients. He'd been one of the patients that hadn't been expected to make it through the first few hours, let alone the five years that'd passed since then. When the paramedics rushed the young man into the hospital's ER, Bones had them wheel him into one of the small, curtained cubicles off of the main lobby. There was no urgency in his tone. If the kid had been stupid enough to get himself so badly hurt, it was only fair if he had to suffer for awhile. After all, a little suffering was good for the soul.

Hours passed by before anybody gave Kirk a scrap of attention. Doctors and nurses in kind were surprised at how determined the kid seemed to be. He just wouldn't die, and yet all his injuries should've had him dead on arrival. When Bones finally abandoned his other patients to check in on Kirk, he decided to take him into surgery without a single word. The young man was close enough to death that he'd be saving him. Determined or not, the kid wouldn't have made it much longer without his intervention.

Bones made it his mission to be there when his patients woke up, and Jim Kirk was no exception to the rule. He wanted to make it clear that he was the one who'd brought them back from the edge of death. He wanted to hear them thank him profusely for his good work. He was also never averse to monetary compensation for his services. While it wasn't required and it was never spoken of, it wasn't uncommon to slip a doctor several hundred dollars under the table outside of the cost of medical bills. Jim Kirk was the first patient of Bones's that hadn't bothered to pay him. The moment that he walked into the room for the first time, Jim told him how it was gonna go.

“Listen, Bones. I know how you doctors are and I'll tell you right now that I've got no money for you. All I've got are the clothes on my back.” There was a smirk on his face, and Bones knew that it was a challenge. You can do just about anything you want to me, but you're still not getting paid. The doctor raised his eyebrow, the reality of what he'd been called snapping to place in his mind. He'd get back to the subject of payment in just a moment, but he wanted to focus on that nickname for the moment being.

“Bones?” He swept his eyes over the young man, wondering what in the hell had prompted such a name. Even the poorest of patients possessed the common sense and respect to call him by his professional name. Dr. McCoy. This kid was either stupid or simply had some sort of death wish.

“You're the bastard that operated on me, right?” Bones nodded in the affirmative.

“You've seen the inside of my body. My organs, my bones. I figured it was as good a name as any, eh Bones?” The doctor had to admire the kid's nerve. He would've started something over if it were any other patient, but he decided to let it slide this once. He let his eyes sweep over Jim once more as a thought crept in from the darkest parts of his mind. Jim's medical file mentioned several prior arrests for prostitution. Why not take use of those skills?

“No money, right? You could always pay me in other ways.” Bones innocently fiddled with the marker in his hands, hoping that Jim would get the message. He didn't care that he was married, that he had a kid at home. His wife was disappointing in bed and his kid was a whiny nuisance. Jim was hot and it'd be idiotic to not take advantage of what someone that good looking could do for him. Kirk wasn't going to get away without providing some sort of payment for the treatment he'd received. A slow smile crept across Jim's face as he picked up on what was being implied.

“I think other forms of payment could be arranged, Bones.”

\--

Five years had passed since that day, and Bones had hardly left Jim's side since. Bones had originally intended for it to be a short thing. A blowjob here and a blowjob there until he was fully satisfied. Somehow it'd spiralled out of control into a twisted form of a relationship. The first few months were simple. Jim and Bones would meet up every few days so that Jim could pay off his medical bill. That was all it was ever supposed to be. It'd gone completely beyond that in absolutely no time at all. By the time that they'd been friends for two years, they were planning to run off together and join Starfleet. Originally, Jim was going to be the only one that joined the fleet, but Bones realized that Jim wouldn't make it a month in Starfleet without someone there to back him up. Who better than him? It'd been no big deal to divorce his wife, ditch his kid, and abandon his job simply to follow Jim across country to California. It was a decision that he never regretted, not even after their different career tracks took them through different classes and kept them apart for longer and longer periods of time, never exceeding a day or two.

Bones had been waiting around their shared dorm for hours. Although they hadn't had any concrete plans, he'd wanted to spend the night with his boyfriend, wanted to listen to him talk about whatever scheme or revenge plan he'd pulled on some unsuspecting cadet. When Jim finally stumbled into their room sometime after half midnight, Bones could tell that something was different. The younger man was beaten, bloody. That was common for Jim, and that wasn't what caught his eye. It was the way that Jim's hair was all mussed up, the slight change in how he usually walked, the way that his cadet reds hung open on his chest, looking like they'd been ripped open. Jim watched Bones process the information with a smirk, waiting to see what type of response it would garner.

Bones had spent the past three years at the Imperial Starfleet Academy watching Jim change. He'd become crueller, more twisted, an empty shell of the man he'd made his own all those years ago in that hospital room. Jim was hardly recognizable from who he had been, the young man he'd made his own completely gone, buried underneath years of Starfleet training. He could accept that, so long as Jim still came home to him at the end of the day, so long as Jim never strayed from the confines of their relationship. Jim Kirk was supposed to be his and _only_ his. Somewhere during the course of the day, that simple fact of life had changed. Someone else had been with Jim, had gotten to see the parts of his body that were reserved for Leonard H. McCoy. Judging from that twisted smirk on Jim's face, it'd been a consensual rendezvous. He didn't know who with, and he didn't intend to find out. A crimson wave of anger and jealousy came crashing down on him, threatening to engulf him. He couldn't have that. Not yet. He needed Jim to think that he was fine with his transgression.

If Jim no longer belonged solely to him, Jim couldn't belong to anybody. It was as simple as that. He wanted Jim to hurt for what he'd done, for breaking the trust that Bones had put into him. He'd given up his life to follow Jim across country, to make sure that he rose through the Imperial Starfleet with no enemies, and this was the thanks he'd gotten? The man that he loved had betrayed him all in the name of fucking someone else. As cliché as it sounded, Jim had changed. Maybe it was Starfleet that'd changed him, maybe it was someone (or something) else. Regardless of the catalyst, Jim could no longer be allowed to live. There was no longer room in the world for a Jim Kirk that existed without Leonard McCoy. He'd always made it clear that Jim would regret the day that he crossed him, and he intended to make good on that threat. Bones knew at least fifty different and excruciating ways to kill Jim, each one more painful than the last. He tried to tell himself that, no, he didn't really want to murder his boyfriend, and yet that rang out as a lie in his mind. Even though Jim hadn't said a single word, that smirk, combined with all the ways in which he'd become a different person made Bones feel no remorse for what he had to do.

Contorting his face into something that didn't convey disgust was a difficult task, but not impossible. The blank slate that'd been his expression morphed into a mask of sexual attraction as he stepped towards Jim, clamping down on his arm hard enough to leave bruises. Red fingerprints blossomed under his hand and it only served to make Bones clamp down harder, enough to make Jim squirm under his touch.

“You're mine. You've known from day one that you were mine. I own you, Jim.” Bones didn't bother to mask his anger as he hissed into Jim's ear, but he tried to coat it with attraction. There was that smirk of Jim's again, supplemented with nothing but the silence that hung heavy in between them. “I don't know who fucked you, I don't wanna know, but let me remind you just what I can do that others can't do. Wouldn't dream of doing.” Bones dragged him to the bedroom, receiving absolutely no resistance from the younger man. Jim needed to be in control of every part of his life, but the bedroom was the one place where he gave up that control. Bones was the one in command here and they both knew that Jim didn't want it any other way.

Bones dragged Jim around in front of him, in front of the bed. He pushed him down with enough force to make Jim grimace, but nothing else was said. Within moments, Bones had tied Jim up to the bed with the rope he kept in the bedside drawer, ensuring that Jim wouldn't be able to get away. It was crucial that the knots prevented his charge from escaping. He straddled the younger man, leaning down to bite Jim's collarbone.

“Gotta mark you as my own, Jim.” Bones's voice was husky, and he couldn't believe that his body was trying to betray him. He was turned on and ready to fuck, even though his mission was clear in his mind. He took a few moments to get his impulses under control, straightening himself back out to look down at Jim, wondering if his eyes betrayed what his mind was thinking. Although it made no difference, Jim realized he was in trouble. Bones's eyes were dark, disconnected from sanity and obviously past the point of no return. Jim had never seen that look in the five years that they'd been together and it scared him. More than that, it terrified him. He struggled uselessly against that which confined him, giving up once he realized it was futile. Bones might hurt him, but they'd be fine in the morning. Bones couldn't hurt him. Could he?

As if to answer the question in Jim's eyes, the older man leaned over to retrieve another item from the bedside drawer. It was a scalpel. The scalpel was rusty, obviously bloodstained, and teeming with infection. Bones held it out for Jim to examine before holding up his other hand and slicing into it with no resistance, proving that it was still a dangerous weapon. He did nothing to stop the flow of blood running down his hand, already focused on what he needed to do again. Jim looked like he'd seen a ghost, his eyes wide and his face white as a sheet. If Bones was capable of hurting himself with no reaction, what did that mean for his own safety?

“ _Memento mori_. D'you know what that means?” Bones wasn't even looking at Jim's face, too busy dragging the blade across his neck. There was no pressure in the movement, not yet. “It's Latin. Surely you know that much, at least? No? Nothing? _Remember that you will die_. Keep that in mind as we move forward.” Bones applied light pressure to the blade, enough to leave a faint cut as the blade cut across Jim's neck. Blood beaded to the surface, making Jim feel uncomfortable. Maybe Bones was capable of hurting him. He'd spent the last three years pushing Bones further and further, and maybe he'd finally gotten him to snap. He knew that Bones was dangerous, not quite all there in the head. He'd used his medical skills to ruthlessly slaughter a large number of Jim's enemies there at the academy, but he never once imagined that the medical knowledge he possessed and his sheer hatred for humanity would be turned around on him.

“Remember that day that we met? You were so determined to cling onto life that you survived well past when you should've. I admired you for that then, did you know that?” Bones smirked, getting off on the look of utter terror in Jim's eyes. “But now? I suggest you try not to cling on for too long, unless you want this to get uglier than it already is.” He slashed the scalpel down Jim's torso, ripping open his shirt and his skin in one fluid motion. Blood burst forward from the wound, staining the torn fabric of the shirt. “Captain, I advise you not to drag this out.” Jim wasn't a captain yet, never would be, but what kind of monster would he be if he didn't let Jim go to his death without experiencing a true captain's death?

Bones glared down at the man that he had once loved, wanting to hurt him more than the situation called for. “You came home, fucked by another man, and you expected me to just be alright with it? You always were too arrogant for your own good. D'you know what it felt like to realize that you'd been with someone else? That I wasn't good enough to hold your interest anymore? No? You don't? Well then. Let me show you how it feels.” Bones was moving before Jim had a chance to process his words. The scalpel that he'd been using to inflict minor wounds had become a deadly weapon in a matter of seconds. The scalpel was buried up to its hilt in Jim's abdomen, surrounded by enough flesh on all sides that Bones could let go and it'd still stand up straight. As a surgeon, Bones knew exactly where to stab to inflict the most damage, the most pain, and knew exactly how to make a wound fatal. Jim was already dead, even if he didn't realize it yet.

“ _Shit_! Bones...” Jim cried out in pain, the first noise he'd made in what felt like hours. His voice was ragged and breathless, filled with unspoken apologies and pleas to let him go. He struggled against his bonds, a futile action. He was trapped there and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it.

Bones wanted to hear that voice again, wanted to hear the man that'd betrayed him crying out in pain. He jerked the knife to the side, slicing through blood vessels and flesh, bringing the blade to a halt. His wish was granted when Jim screamed out in pain, nothing more than a gurgle of broken words and half completed thoughts. Bones'd already completed the leg work, all that was left was for Jim to bleed out right there on the sheets. It'd been done in such a way that Jim would be conscious as he bled out, an act that could take anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour. In the mess of blood and torn skin, Bones could see Jim's intestines poking out from the wound. If he had been angry enough, he'd have reached in and pulled them out just to hear Jim's screams. He hadn't done enough to deserve that kind of treatment, however. With a sickening grin on his face and a deranged look in his eyes, Bones spoke up.

“Now do you know how it feels, Jim? You kicked me in the gut, it's only fair that I returned the pain that you inflicted on me. I told you that you'd regret the day that you crossed me. I don't think you believed me, but I bet you do now. When you get to hell and they ask who sent you, tell 'em it was Dr. McCoy.”

He got up from his position on Jim's legs, clambering off the bed to stare down at Kirk. He had to admire his work. He didn't need to sit there and watch Jim die, that wasn't worth his time. There was pleasure enough in knowing that he was the one who had delivered Starfleet's most promising cadet to his death. He didn't need to watch the life drain from those pretty blue eyes of Jim's, didn't need to watch his skin grow pale and cold as his blood seeped into the sheets. Bones left the room, casting one last glance over his shoulder as he shut the door behind him. Jim Kirk died alone, tied to a bed and left with the slow burn of his body crying out in pain and shutting down on him. Bones would never know if Jim regretted the actions that led to his death, but he knew that his own actions were nothing to regret.

Yes, if Jim Kirk didn't belong solely to him, Jim Kirk would belong to nobody.


End file.
